this the sirens for the quiet of the storm

HALLOWEEN RANDOM EVENT The moon is bright tonight...what was that shadow that just flew over it? <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px; color:#6B3815;"> With a faint curiosity brewing within the stomach of her mind, she was compelled to take a small detour into Fireweed Rise. The trip that she had taken to scout out the territories from the near west to the east mountains had been somewhat successful she thought, but it wasn’t until she set foot in the rise that she could begin to feel small inklings of joy to be returning back to the comfort of the pack den. It was strange to feel such a bubbling, usually fleeting, emotion such as joy in returning to a single place. The Ridge was her home, a place she enjoyed but often times she grew bored of the everyday routine. There was rarely ever anything new and she certainly could not stand the idea of living a boring, uneventful life. So, she could not help but think of Chulyin and the thoughts she had spoke aloud to him. That if he could have whatever he wanted—her idea had been a one-night stand, or more children—would he do it if no one ever knew? His allegiance obviously held with whatever secret he was hiding, a secret that she had not pressed, so obviously he was one to keep things to himself which she certainly was not offended by. Secrets were secrets and were meant to be kept to those closest. So when her leaf-green eyes began to notice the light beginning to filter out of the Rise, she stole a glance across the horizon to watch the sun set and the moon to assume its position in the sky.

i’ve got lots of inspiration right now for narcissa so
i'm looking for more threads,  message me if you'd like one!

howdy :)

The moon was quick in it's introduction into the dimming skies. It announced itself as a thumbprint of light before the sun had even dissipated behind the looming horizon, dangling neatly in a blue sky. It hung as bloated and full, as if to mock Jak's malnourished body. His tawny fur clung ragged to his muscles, and piercing blues stared out from hallowed cheeks. Although the prince wasn't starving, the loner life was taking it's toll, and with it taking his food as well. It always seemed that the more prey dense areas were populated with territories and borders, keeping the increasingly hungry Jak at bay.

He curled his ebony lip in a passing snarl at the scent markings, the stink strong even though he was far past the territories of whatever pack was due north. Despite the evidence, Jak was not succumbed by somnambulism, instead he staggered amongst the neutral lands with a faded consciousness. He was bitter and jaded by the rough path he had taken, and he was going on his second day of no food.

Knowing that he could not press further north, he ventured south, climbing up a hill that had stiff peaks of night frosted grasses. He didn't quite know where he was going, as his little den he carved out for himself was to the west, but he continued to push himself onto the knoll. The grasses were short, and the visage was wide, he could smell a pack scent lingering in the air. Jak could feel a snarl pulling itself from his chest, irritated that there was yet another pack that inhabited this area. But as his eyes focused in the still darkness, he realized that it wasn't a pack that he smelled, but a pack wolf, whose inky silhouette stood out from the indigo sky.